Of Parents and Secrets
by Piceron
Summary: There are secrets in his past, secrets Dane Perth does not know. This is the story of a young mother in Redcliffe years before the Blight and the situation she found herself in. Prequel to Heart's Recovery.
1. The Attraction

_A.N.: This story may be read without reading Heart's Recovery first, but it probably won't make near as much sense if you do. Heart's Recovery tells the story of Talia Tabris after the Blight and the three men who love and care for her the most; her father, King Alistair, and Ser Perth. For this story, all you need to know is that Athdara Perth is Ser Perth's mother._

_This story is a piece of fiction based on fictional characters, and I personally neither condone nor judge their actions._

_Thanks to Blightsworn and Ladyamesindy for their wonderful input and beta reading._

_Many, but not all, of the characters here are OCs that I've created, but the rest and the world structure itself belong to Bioware._

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* * *

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_Nine months before the birth of Dane Perth, approximately Bloomingtide 9:04 Dragon Age_

Athdara Perth ghosted in through the doorless entry to the old abandoned mill a short way out of Redcliffe Village proper, knowing this was a mistake and that she shouldn't have returned. Athdara told herself she wasn't even sure why she was here, but deep inside, if only she would admit it to herself, she knew exactly why.

* * *

_Sixteen months before the birth of Ser Perth, approximately Kingsway 9:03 Dragon Age_

_Her husband, Durell had recently been given the position of seneschal of Redcliffe Castle by Arl Eamon. Athdara, as Durell's wife, didn't have an actual position in the castle, but she was kept busy taking care of their two children, Rendorn and baby Rowena, and their rooms that came with Durell's new position. Athdara was a social creature and liked to get out and about as often as possible. That day, shortly after lunch, Athdara had tied Rowena to a carrying board she then placed on her back and was holding Rendorn's hand as they crossed the courtyard of the castle and headed down the path to the village itself. Athdara liked to visit with Sister Hannah in the chantry. Sister Hannah was older than Athdara, but the two women had become fast friends shortly after Hannah's arrival in the village._

_As they were heading down the path and drawing near one of the blind corners the path made in its twists and turns, Athdara heard the tramp of feet and the jingling of armor. Not thinking anything of it as the path was often traveled by those who lived in the castle, she drew Rendorn to one side so they walked along the side giving access to those she heard approaching. Three men, who were strangers to her and dressed in full armor and carrying swords on their back, came into view. Two of the men seemed to be out of breath from the climb up the hill, but the third man looked at her with an impudent grin before calling out to her, "Good afternoon, Mistress," and then sweeping into a full bow (not an easy feat as heavily armored as he was)._

_Athdara was not used to such flamboyance here in Redcliffe. "Good afternoon," she returned, pausing as the men stopped. The other two men seemed grateful for the break. The third man, the one who had spoken, was tall and broad through the chest, but it was the irresistible grin and head of auburn hair that caught her attention. He wore his hair long for a fighter well past his shoulders, but contained in braids that he had tied back at the nape of his neck. His eyes were hazel and he wore a short beard and mustache._

_"I take it we are not far from the castle itself?" he inquired._

_"The castle is just up the path," Athdara answered as Rendorn held tightly to her hand and quietly watched the men in armor from the safety of his mother's side_

_"We are advance party for Arl Bryland," the man informed her helpfully. "I'm Tristan Maddoc, captain of the arl's household guard."_

_"Greetings, ser," replied Athdara with a small dip of the knee. "My name is Athdara Perth. My husband is seneschal for Arl Eamon. I thought Arl Bryland wasn't to arrive until tomorrow?"_

_Tristan grinned at her. "We made excellent time on the road. Hopefully, it won't be a problem."_

_Athdara shrugged a shoulder. "I'm sure it will be fine. Durell will certainly have everything ready for the visit," she said with a lack of interest._

_Tristan raised an eyebrow at Athdara's words, but didn't follow up on her comment._

_Rendorn began tugging on her hand, "Mother, let's go," he whined as he began to pull her down the path._

_Tristan walked over to her, took the hand Rendorn wasn't clutching, and bowed over it, "Well, Athdara it is always a pleasure to meet a beautiful woman, but unfortunately you have a young gent with a prior claim to your time right now. Perhaps I will be lucky enough to see you again while we are in Redcliffe," he stated as he looked earnestly into her eyes._

_Athdara was flustered. With her flaming red hair, gray eyes, and slim figure she often drew admiring glances, but she wasn't used to what she was seeing in this man's eyes. She saw want and need, and the fact that her body responded to his gaze alarmed her. Athdara pulled her hand from his grasp and said coolly, "Perhaps, Ser Maddoc. That is in the Maker's hands." Athdara started down the path with Rendorn leading the way. She couldn't resist looking back over her shoulder; however, and she saw that Ser Maddoc stood watching her. Athdara could feel his eyes following her as she made her way down to the village._

_Over the next few days, it seemed Athdara couldn't step outside of her and Durell's rooms without running into Arl Bryland's handsome guard captain. With each meeting, she was drawn to him more and more. Like a moth to a flame, she was unable to escape the fascination she was developing for him. Athdara knew it was wrong and she prayed to the Maker every time she went to the chantry asking him to remove these feelings from her. She was a married woman with two children; she should not be having these thoughts about a man not her husband. Athdara thought about Ser Maddoc at night as she laid beside Durell listening to him snore, and then when she would finally drop off into sleep, there the man would be in her dreams. Athdara was convinced she was driving herself mad._

_The days of the arl's visit passed, and finally the time was drawing near for him and his party to return to South Reach. On the morning of the last full day of his visit, Athdara encountered Ser Maddoc in the village. With the knowledge of his imminent departure in both their minds, Ser Maddoc was even more blatant in his attention to her, and Athdara almost fled his presence. The urge to throw herself at the man was just too great._

_Athdara made arrangements for one of the maids in the castle to watch Rendorn and Rowena for the afternoon. She had to get away from Redcliffe and away from Ser Maddoc. She knew she should just stay in her own rooms for the day, but she needed to escape to somewhere she could find some solitude and examine her runaway feelings and emotions without interruption. Durell liked to see her in proper dress as suited their position in the arl's household, but for this afternoon, Athdara dressed in tunic and breeches. Once the maid arrived to care for the children, Athdara threw her cloak on and hurried away from the castle, heading for the woods that surrounded the village and the solitude she so desired. Little did she know that she was observed leaving the castle, and a tall figure shadowed her journey away from the town._

_It had been drizzling most of the day, but now a thunderstorm moved through sending rain lashing down and wind whistling through the trees. Athdara had been too caught up in her thoughts of Ser Maddoc to pay any attention to the sky, and the storm caught her by surprise. With an almost hunted feeling, she heard a voice she recognized as Ser Maddoc's calling for her. As he was between her and the village, Athdara turned and darted away. She knew these woods well having lived here the past few years, and the shelter of the old mill wasn't far away._

_Tristan was surprised how fleet of foot Athdara was as she raced through the woods and finally came to the large stream that eventually flowed through Redcliffe. He caught a glimpse of her fiery red hair as a portion had escaped the hood of her cloak. She ducked down a trail that led to an abandoned building that looked like an old mill house. He followed calling for her, but she refused to stop or slow down. She raced into the building, the door long having been removed from its frame to be used in some other part of the village, but at least it was dry inside._

_The inside of the building was dim in the low light of the day. Athdara moved to the far side of the large room that the entrance to the building revealed. She had to take care to pick her way through the debris that was left on the floor, but she finally made it to the far wall. She was breathing hard from her run, and her heart was beating so fast she thought it might jump right out of her chest. She couldn't believe Ser Maddoc, the very person she was trying to avoid, had followed her, and she was now stuck with him for the duration of the storm. She hugged herself as she began shaking from the cold rain that had penetrated her cloak. Athdara leaned against the stone wall praying he would keep his distance._

_That was a foolish hope as he followed her across the littered floor. "Athdara," was all he said, but the tone of his voice sent a shiver down her spine almost as if he ran his hand along her back in a caress._

_Athdara turned to him nearly at the end of her rope. She had tried so hard to stay away from him. She hadn't asked for him to come barrelling into her life. She hadn't asked to have him take over her thoughts and dreams. She certainly hadn't asked for him to follow her today. "Don't touch me," she hissed at him as she began to back away, honestly not knowing what she would do if he ignored her warning._

_Tristan heard the edge of hysteria in her voice and could see her agitation. He held out both his hands so she could see them and said in as gentle a tone as he could, "Athdara, it's all right. You're freezing. You need to take off that cloak. It's soaked through." Tristan slowly removed his own allowing her to watch as he draped it across an abandoned chair missing two of its legs that was lying on the floor._

_Athdara hated to give up the protection of the cloak, but she knew Ser Maddoc was right. It was heavy, sodden with the rain it had absorbed, and she was getting colder by the minute. Reluctantly, she removed it and allowed him to draw it away from her hands and drape it so it could begin to dry. She once again wrapped her arms around herself to try and conserve some of her body's heat._

_"Athdara, this is foolish. You will make yourself ill. Let me warm you," Tristan said as he eased closer to her._

_"No," she exclaimed in alarm. Athdara moved rapidly backwards, almost in a panic, but without looking where she was going. She tripped over a piece of debris lying in her path and almost landed on the floor of the mill._

_Tristan seeing she was going to fall lunged for her, grabbing solidly onto her arm and jerking her to him. He took advantage of the fact that she was still off balance and quickly drew her into the warmth of his body, wrapping his arms around her and holding her as gently as he would a child. Her skin was cold against him, but he could feel the warmth of her breath as it puffed against the side of his neck._

_At the touch of Ser Maddoc's hands against her skin, Athdara went completely still as feelings she had never felt and almost didn't understand went racing through her. He moved so quickly in saving her from her fall that Athdara wasn't entirely sure how she ended up cradled against him. The strong scent of man drifted over her. Durell always seemed to smell of ink as he worked the castle's accounts and directed the flow of the arl's household. Ser Maddoc's scent was entirely different and totally male. She caught the tangs of armor oil, sweat, and a woodsy scent that attracted her as much as the rumble of his voice or the solid lines of his body. It would only take a slight movement for her to turn her head and bury her face into the line of his shoulder and neck, but Athdara stilled that impulse as soon as it came. For long minutes neither moved nor spoke. Athdara could feel the heat from his body warming her, and she was oh so tempted to relax into the circle of his arms. _What am I doing? He doesn't have the right to touch me like this, and I certainly shouldn't allow him to._ However, she continued to stand in the shelter of his body unable to force herself away from him._

_It was Tristan who broke first. "Athdara," he said half as a groan, half pleadingly as he brought one hand up to run down the side of her face._

_Athdara shivered at the touch of his fingertips against her cheek. She was no blushing virgin. She gave her body to her husband whenever he wanted her, but she never really desired Durell. The feelings this man caused with just a simple touch confused her. She wanted to press her naked body against his while he filled her, and the force of that desire terrified her._

_"No," Athdara said shakily as she tried to step away from him. "This is wrong, Ser Maddoc."_

_Tristan, not wanting to lose her now, wrapped his other arm back around her so Athdara was held and unable to move away from him. He dropped his head so his lips were right outside her ear. "My name is Tristan. I want to hear it from your lips," he whispered to her._

_Athdara shook her head hard without answering, once again trying to move away from him, but Ser Maddoc's arms were like steel bands holding her trapped against him. The spurt of anger she felt at him using his superior strength to contain her caused her to lift her head, straighten her body, look him right in the eye, and challenge him by saying, "I didn't realize South Reach knights forced unwilling women to their embrace."_

_Tristan, already aroused, wanted her more than ever as the spirit under Athdara's beauty came alive. The fierce look in her gray eyes that balanced the flaming crown of her hair, the way she held herself, and the emotion he could hear in her voice all fanned the desire that this woman had created inside him. "Ah, but that is the question, isn't it 'Dara?' he asked in a soft, almost dangerous voice. "Just how unwilling are you?" Athdara's breath was taken away as he released his hold on her body, grasped both sides of her face in his hands, and claimed her mouth for his own._

_Athdara knew she was lost the instant his lips touched hers. She tried so hard to resist him, but there was no denying the man who was kissing her now. She brought her arms up intending to push him away, but somehow they ended up wrapped around his neck as their bodies pressed together and they hungrily devoured each other. Athdara had never been kissed like this before in her life. With Durell, she had felt some mild pleasure, but the sensations sweeping through her now were totally beyond her experience or her control. Athdara had been betrothed and married to Durell by her father before her eighteenth birthday and had no other experience with men (besides a stolen kiss in a barn when she was sixteen)._

_Tristan was shocked by the desire and need he felt for the woman in his arms. Being an attractive man, he had garnered the attention of quite a few ladies in his time, but none had caused the immediate and continued need to possess that he felt from the first moment he had laid eyes on Athdara. The feel of her warm, pliable lips beneath his and the firmness of her body under his hands only made his need for her increase. As his tongue continued to explore her mouth, he sent one hand questing up under her tunic. He stroked the warm, soft skin of her belly with the tips of his fingers as he ran them higher seeking her breasts. Tristan heard 'Dara gasp as his hand pushed her breastband out of the way and then was filled with the softness of her flesh. He ran his thumb gently over the hardened tip of her nipple and was rewarded when her entire body bucked against him as she moaned deeply in her throat. Tristan allowed his fingers to play for a moment or two inflaming the desire she felt for him before removing his hand and guiding them both to the floor. Tristan pushed the debris out of his way so he could lay her below him. He had to have her and soon. His body was near exploding with the need to be inside her._

_Athdara knew she should not be doing this, but she couldn't summon the will to stop. Her entire body was aflame and the only one who could quench that fire was Tristan. When Tristan untied the laces to her tunic and drew it off to lay it beneath her, she did the same to his. She was rewarded with the sight of his bare chest with its firm muscles and healed scars adorned by a chain with a Maker's amulet dangling from it. Her hands reached out of their own accord to run over him, learning the firmness of his flesh and the lines and curves of his body. She was amazed at the strength and solidness of the man beneath her fingertips, so different from Durell's clerk's body with its softness and extra fat. When Tristan's hands went to the ties of her breeches, all thoughts of resistance were gone. She eagerly lifted her hips from the floor as he pulled down both her breeches and the smallclothes beneath, removing them along with her boots._

_A groan was drawn from Tristan as he looked at the naked woman lying on the floor in front of him. "By the Maker, 'Dara, you are a beautiful woman." He had meant to remove his own breeches next but was overtaken by the need to taste her sweetness. He pressed his lips first to her belly and then ran his lips down her skin to find the slick wetness at her center and proceeded to treat himself to the taste of her._

_Athdara was startled when his lips and tongue had caressed the skin of her belly. When he moved between her legs, she started to rise up in protest. Durell had certainly never done anything like that before. When he wanted her, Durell rolled on top of her, took his pleasure, and then it was finished. Tristan calmed her with hands and voice before he ran his tongue up the slit of her body, and Athdara was shocked by the sensations that caused within her. When his tongue found her most sensitive area and began to lick her, Athdara was lost in feelings she hadn't even known existed. Her fingers grasped at the braids of his hair and her body writhed beneath his ministrations needing more. Athdara lost all concept of time as the waves of feeling crashed over her._

_"Please," she begged, not sure if she was asking him to stop or do even more wicked things to her. When her body convulsed beneath his sure, insistent touch, Athdara clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. It felt to her as if the sensations would never stop, but afterward Tristan gave her no chance to regroup._

_Tristan raised his head and moved up her body, raining kisses along her skin and taking one peaked nipple into his mouth. Finally, he continued up her neck and returned to her mouth. Athdara could taste herself on his lips, a new experience for her. He kissed her deeply and thoroughly before drawing back to look into her eyes. "I want you, 'Dara," he said with a catch in his voice. He had never in his life wanted a woman more than he wanted her._

_"Yes," Athdara answered huskily. "I want you too." She was too far gone in sensation to worry now about right and wrong._

_"My name," Tristan insisted, determined to wring this much from her. "Tell me who you want."_

_"Tristan," Athdara whispered against his lips and Tristan felt a flare of triumph. Why he needed her acknowledgment he wasn't sure, but it caused an answering response in him._

_'Dara said his name over and over as if the first time had released something and now she couldn't stop. His hands quickly had his breeches undone as he hurriedly pushed them and his smallclothes out of his way and kicked off his boots. He moved into position above her as she lay open before him. Tristan had meant to take her gently and be a considerate lover, but he had held himself back too long. As he started to enter her, he could tell his tongue and lips had made the necessary preparations for her body to accept him. With a groan, he pushed forcefully inside and buried himself in her. 'Dara's answering moan was a spur that goaded him on, and Tristan began to ride her as hard and fast as he could. He was rewarded by her hips rising to meet every thrust of his and in the way her arms clung to him, as if he was her only stability in the storm that was erupting between them._

_Tristan continued his thrusts until he felt her body tightening around him. With a wail, 'Dara called his name one final time as the shuddering sensations moved through her, and her entire body clenched against him. Tristan made a series of fast, short strokes that wrung a wordless cry from him as his release came right behind hers. When the waves of pleasure had finished, Tristan gathered her to him as he rolled to his side, drawing 'Dara into the shelter of his body offering his warmth to her. _

_Athdara laid passive in Tristan's arms, still recovering mentally and physically from what had just happened between them. She had never known such feelings could exist, and she was couldn't believe it was this stranger rather than her own husband who had made her feel them. It didn't take long before the cold and dampness forced her into movement. She pulled away from Tristan to begin dressing._

_"'Dara," he said tenderly_

_Athdara raised a hand. "No," she said with a shake of her head. "Don't say anything." Athdara dressed as quickly as she could as the guilt for what she had done settled on her heart. She had not only broken vows she had taken in front of the Maker, but she had betrayed Durell and her children. By the time she was finished dressing, she was barely managing to keep the tears she could feel prickling at the corners of her eyes at bay._

_Athdara looked outside. The storm had lightened significantly, but the rain still fell. At this point, Athdara didn't care. She had to get away from Tristan. She needed to be home with her children. Athdara turned back into the mill house and headed for where Tristan had laid out her cloak_

_Once Tristan finished dressing and pulling his boots back on, he just watched 'Dara. He could almost see the guilt and unhappiness settle over her. Tristan felt his own brand of guilt. He had certainly never meant to cause her hurt. "Athdara," Tristan tried again when he saw that she was preparing to leave._

_Athdara ignored Tristan as she pulled her cloak on. "Don't follow me," she ordered before slipping out the door._

_Tristan went through behind her. "Wait, don't go yet," he said. "I have to leave tomorrow. I won't have a chance to see you again."_

_Athdara answered him without turning around. "I think that is for the best," she said. "I wish you safe journey, Ser Maddoc," and then she was gone._

* * *

Now seven months later, Arl Bryland and his escort had ridden into Redcliffe a few days ago. Athdara had been dreading the visit ever since Durell had told her about it. It had taken her a long time to put what had happened that day with Tristan behind her. She had spent more time than she would ever admit thinking about him and how he had made her feel that day. Regardless, Athdara was determined to avoid the man as much as possible. It was two days after his arrival before she encountered him in the village. She had Rendorn and Rowena with her. Rowena was too large for the carry board anymore, and Athdara was carrying her in her arms as the little girl was now over one year old. She came out of the chantry (where Athdara had spent many hours praying to the Maker over what she had done) on her way back to the castle. Athdara climbed the first hill and was resting at the bridge before starting up the next rise. Her heart sank as she saw Tristan coming down the path toward her. She turned giving her attention to Rowena, hoping Tristan would pass her by without the need to speak.

"Good morning, Mistress Perth," came Tristan's voice, the familiar tones causing a tingle of excitement along her skin. For a moment, Athdara considered pretending she hadn't heard him, but she knew that was foolish and at least he was being discreet as the path was open and fairly heavily traveled.

Athdara took a deep breath and turned to face him. "Ser Maddoc, welcome back to Redcliffe," she replied coolly, although she felt as if her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

"Are you heading back to the castle?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "I must get my children home for lunch."

"Allow me to escort you up the path," he offered.

"No," Aldara replied sharply and then modulated her tone as Rendorn looked up quickly at her, catching her anxiety. "Thank you for the offer, Ser Maddoc, but that isn't necessary."

"Let me help you up the hill, Athdara. I'll carry your daughter," Tristan stated as he made a come-to-me gesture to Rowena.

Athdara was surprised when Rowena held out her arms and went to the man.

Tristan grinned at her. "Little girls love me," he said in response to Athdara's expression.

_I bet it's not just little girls, _Athdara thought as she could feel her resolve to avoid him start to melt away just standing beside him in the street. "Follow me then," she said determined to make it up the hill to the castle in record time. Holding firmly to Rendorn's hand, she started off. Tristan easily fell into step beside her, talking nonsense to Rowena and making faces that caused laughter to erupt from the toddler.

Tristan threw surreptitious glances around and when they were alone on the path, he said very quietly without looking at her, "Meet me at the mill this afternoon."

"No," she replied just as quietly and without looking at him.

"Please, 'Dara," he was surprised to find himself begging. Tristan needed to reassure himself that she was okay and that their unplanned tryst all those months ago hadn't adversely affected her. Or that's what he told himself anyway; it couldn't have anything to do with the fact that he had been unable to forget her and he wanted to see her again.

"No," she repeated and then was quiet until they reached the castle gate. She turned to her daughter. "Come to Mother now, Rowena. Thank you for your help up the hill, Ser Maddoc. Please don't let us keep you any longer. Good day." Athdara reclaimed Rowena and turned to stride off, heading for the servant's entrance.

"Good day, Mistress," Tristan answered unhappily as the guards at the castle's gate were close enough to overhear every word they said.

Athdara had seen him twice more, once in the castle itself and once again in the village, before she weakened and agreed to meet him at the mill that afternoon. Why she had agreed, she had no idea, especially since after his last visit Athdara had promised herself she would stay away from the man and avoid him at all costs. She knew with the way that Tristan still affected her senses that this was a _very bad idea. _She told herself she was doing it so he would stop pestering her and that his demand for her to meet him every time he saw her only increased the likelihood that someone would overhear and become curious as to the nature of the relationship between Arl Bryant's guard captain and the seneschal's wife. Ever since his return to Redcliffe, she had slept poorly and thought of hardly anything or anyone but Tristan. Underneath it all, Athdara just wasn't willing to admit that she desperately wanted to see him and spend what little bit of time in his company that she could.

After entering the large room, Athdara refused to look over by the wall where she had lain with Tristan the last time they were here. She should have suggested another location for their meeting, but she was fairly certain that here they would remain undetected by anyone from the village.

Tristan quietly slipped into the room behind her. "I was afraid you would change your mind and not show," he said softly.

At the sound of his voice, Athdara whirled around as she was caught off guard at the stealthiness of his approach. She crossed her arms over her chest in an unconscious movement to protect herself from him. "I said I would be here," she replied with a defensive tone in her voice. "Now, what do you want?"

Tristan had only meant to ensure that she was all right and that she had not suffered any consequences from what had occurred between them. With her standing in front of him, however, he once again felt the desire to hold her in his arms. Tristan had thought about her more than was good for him over the past six months, and he felt as if his stomach had been in knots ever since his lord had first discussed the return trip to Redcliffe with him. "I just needed to be sure you were all right, and there were no consequences to my actions from my last visit. I've thought about you a lot while I was in South Reach and…I wanted to make sure you were well."

Athdara just looked at the man. This was the last thing she had expected to hear from him. She had assumed he would have forgotten her ten minutes after he had finished with her. She spoke without thinking, "You thought about me?" She wanted to pull the words back as soon as they left her lips, but it was too late.

Tristan took the opportunity to glide closer to her as he answered her in a soft voice. "Of course I did, 'Dara. I hope you didn't think I was the type of man who engages in a series of meaningless tumbles always with an eye out to the next conquest."

Athdara flushed slightly as this was exactly what she had thought. She had figured she was just the latest in a long line of women.

Tristan reached out and gently ran one finger down the side of her face. Athdara thought about moving away from him, but she was entranced by the earnest look in his eye. "There is something about you, Athdara that calls so strongly to me. I have thought about you more than you could possibly imagine these last months in South Reach," Tristan admitted.

Athdara swallowed hard as she felt her body respond to his nearness. All she wanted to do was press herself against him and let him hold her again.

Tristan saw the conflict she was feeling and knew she was fighting a war inside herself. He dropped his head to capture her mouth. Tristan knew he should let her come to her own decision, but with their time together so limited, he was willing to use any tactics available to claim her once again.

Athdara saw Tristan's movement and knew he was going to kiss her. She quickly raised her hand so his lips encountered her fingers instead. "Tristan, this is still wrong,"

Tristan, not about to be dissuaded, kissed her fingers and drew them into his mouth as he let the desire he felt for her show in his eyes.

Heat spread through Athdara's body at the combined feel of Tristan's mouth sucking gently on her fingertips and the look he gave her, which left her no doubt that he wanted her.

Tristan released her fingers and moved even closer so he could whisper in her ear. "Let me love you properly, 'Dara, the way I should have the first time," he said. He then wrapped his arms around her as he pressed his lips to her temple.

"Tristan," Athdara moaned. The feel of his lips against her skin, his scent, her own desire, and the knowledge that she had already broken her marriage vows all overcame her initial resistance to him.

Tristan felt the tension in her body release when she gave in to the desire between them. He pulled her sharply to him, kissing her deeply before he gently lowered her to the floor…

* * *

About two months after Tristan left Redcliffe, Athdara knew she was pregnant. She had not had her monthly flow since well before his visit. As a mother of two, she knew what this heralded. Athdara ran a hand over her still flat belly, wondering whether the father of the child she now carried was her husband or her lover.


	2. An Unexpected Discovery

_15 Kingsway 9:11 Dragon Age, approximately six-and-a-half years after the birth of Dane Perth_

Athdara snuggled into the man's arms that held her tightly clasped against him as his lips trailed down the side of her face. "I've missed you, 'Dara."

Athdara looked into the hazel eyes that gazed at her so earnestly. "I bet not as much as I've missed you, Tris."

She couldn't believe it had been seven years since the first time she and Tristan had come together. Those first years she had fought this connection that drew the two of them to each other on Arl Bryland's twice-annual visits to Redcliffe, but she had long since accepted it and looked forward to the times when Tristan was here. She was the dutiful wife and mother the rest of the year, but it was only during the stolen time that she shared with Tristan that Athdara was truly herself. For those few hours in the various secluded buildings around the village where they met, Athdara was able to forget about all her day-to-day worries and cares and concentrate only on herself and the man she risked everything for.

They were both aware that they were on borrowed time, and eventually something would happen that would prevent them from seeing each other anymore. It was a weight on Athdara's heart to know they could never have more than what they shared now, but she had long since decided to accept the joy Tristan brought into her life and not ask for more. Tristan had married the woman that had been selected for him by his family years ago, and they both had other responsibilities that neither could forsake, including children.

The one secret Athdara had kept and admitted to no one besides herself was the fact that Tristan was the father of her youngest son, Dane. Luckily, the boy had inherited her eyes, but the rich, deep auburn color of his hair and his firm facial structure came directly from his father. Athdara was careful to keep Dane as far away from the castle during the arl's visits as possible. Now that the boy was getting older though, it was getting more and more difficult, and she was afraid the resemblance would be remarked upon. But that was a worry for another time as for now, she was determined to enjoy every minute she could spend with Tristan.

She had met Tristan this day in one of the small sheds that were used through the summer for collecting honey from the bees. Now that they were into the fall of the year, honey season was over. This was one of the buildings the farthest from the village itself, and it now stood empty. Athdara swore she could still smell the honey and the beeswax that had been worked in the space, however. Since it was a small building, it was the ideal place for her and Tristan to meet without the chance of being discovered. When Tristan had come through the door, he had gathered her in his arms and kissed her as though he was starving. In just minutes after that, the two of them were naked and writhing together on the floor. Now, the first initial rush of passion having been spent, Tristan held her close against him. It was this even more than the lovemaking that kept Athdara returning to him. The way Tris touched her and held her while they lay together, as if she was the most precious treasure in the world to him, caused her heart to melt.

"I have something for you," Tristan said in his deep voice, his hand pausing in its gentle stroking of the skin of her side.

"You do?" Athdara looked at him in surprise. He had occasionally brought her little presents, such as flowers he had picked on the way to their trysts, and once he had even brought her candy he had bought in the village store. She hadn't noticed him arriving with anything in his hands today.

Tristan released Athdara as he stretched across the blanket they were laying on to dig through the pile of his clothes. He located his belt pouch and opened it. He had thought long and hard about this present to her. Tristan knew this was a major step in their relationship, an acknowledgement that there was more between them than just the physical, and he was surprised to find he was nervous about how she would receive the gift. They both realized that having anything personal that could be identified as from the other could be a danger to them, but the last time he had been in Redcliffe she had made a remark that had stayed with him the months he had been in South Reach. She had said she missed just being able to see him while he was gone. Early in the summer after his return from Redcliffe, Tristan had commissioned a family portrait that he, his wife, and children had sat for, but he had also instructed the painter to make a miniature of him to go in a locket. It was this locket now that he handed to Athdara.

When Athdara saw the piece of gold jewelry that Tristan removed from his belt pouch, her heart started beating faster. She didn't know what was in it, but she knew this gift had significance. She could feel the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes and she rapidly blinked to try and keep them from falling. When he handed the locket to her, at first all she could do was hold it in her hand and rub it with her fingers. She could tell just by looking at the locket that it was expensive and not something anyone in her village would be able to afford.

Tristan gave a little laugh, "Well, aren't you going to open it?" he asked as he drew her back against him.

Athdara leaned against his chest still admiring the craftsmanship of the piece. "Tristan, this is too much; it's too expensive." She turned so she could look at him. "It's dwarven work, isn't it?" She had once seen a necklace made by dwarves that had passed through her father's shop, and the locket showed the same quality of workmanship that had so distinguished the other piece.

Tristan nodded and then sighed in exasperation, "Just open the Maker-blessed thing, 'Dara."

Athdara's finger found the hidden catch that caused the latch to spring open. When she saw what was inside, a soft smile appeared on her face. "Oh, Tris. It's perfect, thank you," she breathed as her finger traced the miniature painting inside. "It's like I can keep a part of you with me when you leave." Her face fell a little as she said, "I'll find a safe place to keep it, so no one else will ever see it," she promised.

Tristan felt a twinge of sadness that the feelings they shared for each other would never see the light of day, and that they would always have to be hidden from others. "I'm glad you like it, love," he said. "I thought it was time for you to know that if I had been given a choice in the woman who was to share my life, it would have been you."

When Athdara heard what Tristan had to say she knew that, regardless of the locket, his real gift to her was the words he spoke. She would never forget and would carry them in her heart forever. Since their time together was so limited, she always tried to show him smiles and happiness so as to not mar those few stolen hours they managed together. But today, his words and caring had undone her. She collapsed against him, and Tristan was there to hold and comfort her gently. A storm of tears moved through her and she cried and shook against him as all the knowledge of what had to be rose painfully to the surface.

She cried because there was another woman who carried his name, shared his bed and his life, and bore his children. She cried for the fact that she was tied inescapably to Durell, and even though she loved her two older children, it was her youngest, Dane, Tristan's son, she loved the most and the guilt for that tore her to pieces. She cried for Tristan because he didn't know about their boy and for the fact that his oldest child would never know his father. Mostly though, she cried for herself, knowing she would never spend a night with him beside her and would never wake held in his arms. She cried for the lonely days and nights that had passed without him and all the ones she knew were ahead of her in the future.

Finally, the torrent of tears came to an end and Athdara lay spent against Tristan. He held her close, murmuring soft words, and stroking her hair. Tristan tenderly pressed a kiss to her temple before speaking. "That's it. No more presents for you," he said teasingly.

Athdara sniffed one final time pushing herself away from Tristan as she wiped a hand down her face. "I'm sorry, Tris," she replied, embarrassed at her lack of control. "The locket is lovely. I'll treasure it always."

Tristan said, "Put it on. I want to see what it looks like around your neck."

Athdara fumbled with the opening on the chain a bit as she had never had a piece of jewelry in her life besides the simple band that Durell had put on her hand the day they married. As she raised her arms with one side of the chain in each hand, her breasts rose as well as if they were offering themselves to Tristan, and Athdara could almost feel the heat of Tristan's eyes on her skin as he watched the movements of her body. He reached out to gently brush her hair out of her way so she could fasten the chain behind her neck, and she allowed the locket to fall against her chest. The locket came to rest in the valley between her breasts.

Tristan had purposefully had the chain made long so it would hang low, thinking perhaps there were times that she could wear it hidden below her clothes. Just looking at her clad only in the locket he had given her caused a tightening in his groin and his desire for her to become evident. Athdara slowly smiled at him as she saw how she affected him. What Tristan wouldn't give to be able to see her like this all the time and to be able to take her back to South Reach with him, but it was not to be.

Tristan pushed aside those thoughts and dreams of what they could never have as Athdara said, "Now, I'll have to thank you properly." Athdara smiled at Tristan as she moved to kiss him and give him the only gift she could bestow upon him, herself.

* * *

Once Athdara left him, Tristan slowly finished getting dressed before leaving the honey shed some time after she had departed. He would be on the road early tomorrow morning as the arl's party began their journey back to South Reach. Tristan always dreaded the return trip. It was hard for him knowing he was leaving Athdara behind. Regardless, he had everything packed and ready for the journey. Since it was such a beautiful fall day, Tristan decided to take his time and enjoy the surrounding countryside around Redcliffe. Over the years, he had become quite familiar with the lay of the land as he and Athdara met in new locations around the village.

Tristan meandered through the low-lying hills enjoying the change in color of the stands of hardwoods and the soft crunch of the leaves beneath his feet from those that had already fallen to the ground. As he was getting closer to the village and there were fewer trees and more fields, he began to hear snatches of voices. He idly headed in that direction as it sounded as though it was children calling to one another. Tristan came to the edge of the stand of trees he had been traveling through which was bordered by a grassy meadow, and he saw two boys at play.

"No, Ren, you're doing it all wrong. You have to die when I strike you," stated a sturdily built red-headed young boy who had his back to Tristan.

The older boy, who was probably about ten or eleven, with darker hair and a smaller build replied, "If you hit me that hard again, I'll take the sword away from you and hit you back!"

Tristan grinned in amusement. The younger boy had a wooden practice longsword that had obviously seen better days clenched tightly in his hands with the point trailing on the ground.

"Ready?" the younger boy called to the older as he struggled to raise the sword above his head. "Fearsome dragon, I, Ser Oswin do hereby demand that you leave this fair village in peace or prepare to face my wrath."

Tristan couldn't help but laugh at the earnestness in the boy's voice. At the sound of his laughter, the younger boy lost control of the sword and the point fell to the ground once again. He also surprised Tristan with the speed that he spun around to face him. Tristan never expected to see what he saw then. Except for the red hair, gray eyes, and being a few years older, this boy could be the twin of Tristan's young son at home. (Tristan's son in South Reach had hair of ruddy gold and Tristan's hazel eyes, but both boys bore the unmistakable stamp of their father.) Tristan felt as though his warhorse had caught him full in the gut with both hind feet as the realization of just who this child had to be hit him. _'Dara! Why did you never tell me?_

The boy's solemn gray eyes (Athdara's eyes) looked up at him. "Good afternoon, ser," the boy greeted him cordially. His clothes were well worn but serviceable and probably had started the day in better condition before he had taken up dragon slaying. Some of his auburn hair escaped the boy's plaits on each side of his face, and he reached up to push an errant strand back behind his ear.

"Good afternoon," returned Tristan almost dazedly as he moved closer. He was feeling all sorts of conflicting emotions at the moment; excitement, joy, hurt but most of all he had to fight the almost overwhelming urge to sweep the boy up into his arms and hug him tightly against his chest.

"My name is Dane Perth," he very politely introduced himself and with a gesture towards the other boy, "That's my brother, Rendorn. He's supposed to be the dragon, but he's not doing a very good job," he finished with a disgusted tone.

"Greetings, Dane," said Tristan as he struggled to keep his voice from betraying his emotion. "Greetings, Rendorn," Tristan glanced the older boy's way, but his gaze returned unerringly to Dane. "I'm Ser Tristan Maddoc, sworn to Arl Bryland. It's an honor to meet you."

Dane's pupils expanded a little in surprise. "You're a real knight then, aren't you? You can tell Rendorn how to be the dragon."

Tristan smiled down at the boy (his son!) and said, "I can do better than that. I'll be the dragon and you can slay me. Will that work?"

"Really?" exclaimed Dane, who was delighted.

"Oh good," said Rendorn and he immediately dropped down to rest in the grass, obviously glad to have someone else take over his role.

"Certainly, I assume we are doing the tale of _Ser Oswin and the Dragon?_"

"Yes. Mother just told us that story last night." The boy's tone dropped as he leaned towards Tristan to confide in him. "I'm going to be a knight someday. Rendorn says I can't because we are just the arl's servants, but my mother says I can and that I'll be the best one in the whole world."

Tristan's heart leaped into his throat at that declaration. He just couldn't believe that Athdara wouldn't have told him about this beautiful child they had created between them. "I bet you will, son," Tristan said barely able to force the words out past the lump in his throat. "I just bet you will."

Tristan proceeded to show Dane the proper grip for his hands on the practice sword and how to stand to help balance the weight. Tristan had asked Dane where he had gotten the sword from. Dane's face had flushed at that, but he admitted that he had begged one of the guards at the castle for it when they were about to cart the old practice swords off for firewood. Dane had dragged it away from the village and hid it. He made Tristan solemnly swear not to tell his mother as she would take the sword from him and Dane _needed_ the sword so he could practice. Tristan felt a swell of pride at the boy's resourcefulness as he promised not to breathe a word to anyone.

They then proceeded to re-enact the story of Ser Oswin. The dragon (Tristan) roared and challenged the knight as the story demanded, and Ser Oswin (Dane) was brave and true and confronted the dragon within its very own lair. The dragon soon lay dead at his feet, and the very grateful townspeople (Rendorn) had gathered to celebrate the hero and his brave deed. (Dane had been glad there was no grateful young girl like in the story because no girl was kissing him!)

Once they were finished with the tale, the three of them sat in the grass of the meadow as Dane went back over the story jumping up to pretend once again to kill a make-believe dragon. Tristan just watched the boy hardly able to believe that he was his son. As Tristan watched Dane, he started making plans in his head. Dane certainly deserved more than he had. Tristan resolved to do something for the lad, to find a way to give him the place in life that should have been his. As Tristan had been thinking, he had lost track of the conversation between the boys. Rendorn was now drawing Dane away, telling him they needed to return to the village.

Tristan quickly abandoned all thoughts of the future as he concentrated on the present. He wanted to spend as much time with Dane as he could, but he knew the boys would have to get home. Tristan jumped up and asked them if they would mind if he walked back with them. Neither boy objected so the three of them returned the sword to its hiding place and then turned in the direction of the village and headed off. Dane chattered to Tristan the whole way, telling him about his family and life in the castle. Tristan felt a jolt of pain to his heart to hear Dane speak of another man as his father, but he knew he didn't dare protest or tell the boy the truth.

Tristan reluctantly stopped before they arrived in the village itself. He knew it would tempt fate too much to let himself be seen by any of the townsfolk side-by-side with Dane. The obvious resemblance between them was sure to be noted.

Dane turned to Tristan and gave him a small bow before saying, "My thanks, Ser Maddoc for being my dragon. You died a most proper death," he added seriously.

Tristan bit his lip to hold back a smile and returned the bow. "It was my pleasure, my Lord."

Dane smiled up at him. "I'm no lord, not like you, but someday I will be when I'm grown."

Tristan wanted desperately to forge a connection with the boy and leave him something to remember him by. "Don't go yet," Tristan requested. He reached his hands inside his tunic and found the fastening to the chain he wore. He opened it and pulled the amulet from his neck. "Dane, I'd like you to have this."

"Wow!" exclaimed the boy, his eyes wide in surprise. Tristan moved around behind him to secure the chain around his neck. As it was made to fit a full-grown man the amulet hung down almost to his waist. Tristan couldn't resist resting his hand on Dane's shoulder for a moment.

Dane picked up the amulet to look at it as Tristan said, "My father gave that to me when I was just a baby to keep me safe. I'd like you to have it, but you have to promise me that you will wear it always."

"Wow," said the boy again. "I promise." He turned his face up to Tristan with a look of concern on his face and the amulet still clenched in his hand. "But what about you? Will you be safe without it?"

"Don't you worry," Tristan answered with a smile touched that the boy would think of him. "The Maker will still watch over me. Now, you need to put that inside your tunic and wear it against your skin," Tristan told him knowing that Athdara would want the amulet hidden from others.

Dane solemnly tucked the amulet away before speaking again, "Thank you, Ser Maddoc. Maybe next time you are here I'll see you again. We can do _Ser Gawyn and the Flaming Dog_."

"I'll look forward to it," replied Tristan. _More than you can possibly imagine. _"Give your mother a message for me?" Tristan asked.

"Of course," Dane replied as he looked expectantly at Tristan.

"Tell her… I said she has wonderful sons," Tristan replied with a catch in his voice.

"Come on, Dane," Rendorn said as he pulled on Dane's arm, irritated that Dane had received a gift and he hadn't. "We need to get home or Mother will be angry we are late. Goodbye, Ser Maddoc."

"Goodbye, Rendorn," Tristan said without taking his eyes off Dane. "Goodbye, young knight."

Dane grinned back over his shoulder to Tristan and gave a jaunty wave as Rendorn pulled him away.

Tristan stood and watched the two boys walking away until they were out of sight. Once they were out of view, Tristan slumped to the ground holding his head in his hands. _How could Athdara have kept the boy a secret all these years? WHY didn't she tell me? _Tristan ran every minute he had spent with Dane through his mind again to lock them away, knowing he would treasure these memories in the months to come. His thoughts turned once more to Athdara. _In all honesty, I haven't been the most forthcoming either. I've told 'Dara nothing about my family. _

Tristan's hand went to his neck. It felt strange to be without his amulet. He had always worn it, ever since his father had placed it on him right after his birth. It was a tradition in his family. For each child born, the father would have an amulet crafted and hang it around his child's neck shortly after birth and they were worn until death. It was a symbolic act of claiming the child and also placing him or her under both the Maker's and their father's protection. Tristan's son and daughter in South Reach both wore an amulet similar to the one Dane now possessed. Dane may not have realized it, but Tristan had claimed him as his own blood. If anyone in his family ever saw that amulet around Dane's neck, they would know that Tristan acknowledged Dane as his son.

* * *

Athdara arrived back at the castle and went immediately to the rooms the family lived in. Her mind was considering possible hiding spots for the locket and rejecting them as quickly as she thought of them. She temporarily placed it in with her smallclothes as no one would be rummaging through them. She had been unable to resist the urge to open the locket one last time to look at the picture of Tristan. As she traced the outline of Tristan's face with a fingertip, she knew she had a goofy smile on her face, but she didn't care. The fact that Tristan had bought the locket and had his picture done for her warmed her all the way through.

Once the locket was hidden, she turned to the small chores that keeping their living area clean required. She was sweeping in the front room when she heard the sound of the door opening and the voices of Rendorn and Dane as they entered. Athdara had sent Rowena over to play with one of her friends for the day and had Rendorn keep an eye on Dane this afternoon so she could meet Tristan one last time before he left Redcliffe.

"You're just mad because he liked me better than you," Dane was saying as he and Rendorn came into the room Athdara was in. She noticed that Dane had something clenched in his hand.

"I wouldn't want an old amulet anyway," Rendorn said spitefully before stalking out of the room.

"Well, my Dane," Athdara said fondly. "What is this you have, and why is Rendorn upset about it?"

Dane came over to his mother and moved his hand so she could see the amulet. Athdara almost let out a small cry but was able to stifle it. She had seen that amulet many times before. She didn't have to see the back to know the words engraved there.** In fact, she had seen it less than a few hours ago hanging around Tristan's neck. "Where did you get that?" Athdara gasped.

"Ser Maddoc gave it to me," Dane said forthrightly.

Athdara moved shakily to a chair as she felt as though her legs would give out from underneath her. All she could think was _HE KNOWS. Tristan knows about Dane. What will he do with that knowledge?_ "Where did you see him?" she inquired as fear coursed through her body.

"We met him in the woods, and he was the dragon and I was Ser Oswin. Rendorn wasn't doing it properly, Mother. Ser Maddoc was wonderful and died just as the dragon should," Dane explained.

Athdara's mind was racing, but she felt relief that Tristan obviously hadn't said anything to Dane about who he really was. "What about the amulet, Dane?" Athdara asked.

"Oh," Dane continued. "Ser Maddoc walked back to the road crossing with Rendorn and me. He gave it to me and I promised him I would wear it always."

Athdara thought quickly. "Did he give anything to Rendorn?"

"No," admitted Dane slightly guiltily. "He just liked me better, Mother. Ser Maddoc hardly spoke to Rendorn, but he talked to me."

"I see," said Athdara. "Well, I think it would be considerate of you to not brag about your present because it will only make Rendorn feel bad. It was obviously something that meant a lot to Ser Maddoc, so you should honor that by keeping the gift between the two of you. I think you should put it inside your tunic and leave it there, Dane."

"Yes, Mother," replied Dane. "Ser Maddoc told me to wear it that way." He carefully placed the amulet away and Athdara breathed a sigh of relief that it was out of sight. "And he also sent a message for you."

Athdara felt her heart contract at the thought, "What was it?"

"He said you had wonderful sons," said Dane anxious that he should get the message correct that Ser Maddoc had entrusted to him.

Athdara felt a jolt of pride in her boy. "Yes, I do," she agreed as she moved to drop a kiss on top of Dane's head. "Now, go change for dinner," Athdara directed her son.

"Yes, Mother," said Dane obediently and he started to exit the room.

"My Dane," called Athdara. Dane turned to face his mother once more. "I would suggest not showing the amulet to your father either. He may not understand and be displeased with the gift."

Athdara could see the confusion on Dane's face and the fact that he didn't really understand why that would be so, but he seemed willing to be guided by her. "Yes, Mother," he replied once again before turning and heading for his room. Durell had never shown much interest in Dane, and Maker knew Athdara had never encouraged him to. All Durell's attention was usually claimed by their daughter, Rowena, who was the child that most resembled Durell.

Athdara's thoughts were whirling. What would Tristan do? Would he want to take Dane away with him tomorrow, thereby exposing her secret to everyone in Redcliffe? Or would he be willing to leave Dane here with her? She could only wait and see. Athdara knew if Tristan wanted the boy she would not be able to stop him from taking Dane. If their secret was revealed, she would just be the disgraced mother who had cheated on her husband while Tristan was a knight with powerful connections in his lord, Arl Bryland.

Athdara was on edge all evening, but she was glad when the time came for the family to retire for the night. The fact that no one knocked on their door demanding Dane calmed her slightly. Surely if Tristan was planning on taking the boy back to South Reach with him, Dane would have been fetched before the actual morning of the arl's departure?

The next morning, Dane wanted to go down to the castle's courtyard to watch the departure of the arl and his new friend, Ser Maddoc. Athdara felt guilty in denying Dane the chance to see Tristan again, but she knew she didn't dare let him go. As the morning wore on and the arl's party departed, Athdara's relief became almost palpable. She had delayed the inevitable for a little while, but in the back of her mind, she knew that Tristan's next visit would be drastically different from those that had gone before.

* * *

_** The engraving on the amulet reads _"To Tristan, from Father. May the Maker always protect you" _and is the same one Dane was wearing in Heart's Recovery. _

* * *

_A/N: Thanks once again to ladyamesindy and Blightsworn for the beta.  
_


	3. Her New Purpose

_AN: This picks up basically where the last chapter left off._

* * *

In all the years that Tristan had been coming to Redcliffe with Leonas Bryland and had been involved with Athdara, this was the hardest it had ever been for him to leave. He knew it was foolish, but the entire time the party was in the courtyard of the castle preparing to depart that morning, he kept looking around hoping to catch a glimpse of Dane. Athdara never came to the castle's courtyard to see them off. Tristan had long understood it was too painful for her to see him leave, but he had secretly hoped that Dane would be with the group of young boys that invariably hung around watching all the hustle and bustle of their departure. Eventually, Leonas and his family walked down the steps of the castle with many well wishes and invitations to return from Arl Eamon. All was in readiness as the arl's family prepared to depart, and there was nothing left but for Tristan to order his men to surround the Brylands and for them to begin their descent to the village itself where their coach and other horses were waiting for them.

Tristan's hopes were dashed as no red-headed boy awaited him in the village itself or the surrounding area. Tristan knew that it would be a long seven months or so before he was once again in Redcliffe, and he felt as though he was leaving his heart behind. The night before his departure while lying in bed, Tristan had a few fantasies of pounding on the door to the seneschal's quarters and claiming both 'Dara and Dane as his. But Tristan's common sense overruled the roiling emotions inside him. Where could they go? He couldn't take them back to South Reach with him as his wife and other children were there. He certainly couldn't take them to his home. Even though his father was ill, he couldn't see his family accepting Tristan's leman and bastard son.

And what about Sarah and his two other children? Granted he and Sarah had never been "in love," but they had been betrothed from their cradles and managed to get along reasonably well. He had no desire to hurt her unnecessarily or rub her nose in the fact that 'Dara was the woman he truly wanted to spend his life with. His younger son and daughter also waited for him in South Reach. Tristan had to consider how their welfare was impacted by any action he might take. And then there was Dane himself. What was best for him? Was it the right thing for him to grow up thinking another man his father and be raised as no more than another servant in Redcliffe? Tristan acknowledged that his actions had caused this tangled web, but he was lost as to how to make this whole situation right.

All these questions and more bounced around inside his head as the winter wore on. He considered many different plans and spent as much time with his young children as he could. His son, Delaney was four and just starting to show some of the spirit that Tristan had seen which burned so brightly in Dane. His daughter, Rhoswen was only two and just starting to talk. Tristan considered going to Leonas, who was not only his sworn lord but also his greatest friend, and seek his advice, but Tristan knew this was something he would have to work out for himself. He had created this problem, and it was up to him to solve it.

By the time his brother Ferris came to South Reach in the early spring in place of their ailing father, Tristan had decided on his course of action. Tristan had considered confessing the whole story to him and asking his help and advice, but just as he didn't want to ask Leonas for help, he reached the same decision in regards to Ferris. There was just something about going to his younger brother for aid that grated against the grain for Tristan. He did corner his brother and extracted a vow from Ferris that if Tristan was not able to take care of Sarah and the children that Ferris would come to South Reach for them and take them home. As the next head of the family, Tristan had no doubt that Ferris would ensure all their needs were addressed and his children raised as well as Ferris' own son and daughter. With that concern off his mind, he was free to consider 'Dara and Dane.

Tristan planned to ask 'Dara to leave Redcliffe and her husband so the two of them could raise Dane together. If she agreed, he would ask Leonas to release him from his vow of service and carry messages back to his wife and family in which he would try to explain his actions. He then planned to head south, maybe towards Gwaren. Tristan would have to appear to be an ordinary man of arms traveling with his wife and son and hope that no one recognized him for who he had been. Knowing the pride of the old man, Tristan was certain that his father would disown him for leaving Sarah and their children. Regardless of that fact, Tristan just could not accept the thought of Dane being raised as the seneschal's son in Redcliffe with only 'Dara to look out for his best interests. If Tristan and 'Dara's relationship became known, then 'Dara was in a precarious situation, and her husband could possibly cast both her and Dane out of their home. No, this was the only way. He had done his best for Sarah and the children, but Tristan was the only one who could ensure that 'Dara and Dane were safe and provided for.

The unknown factor was Athdara herself and whether she would agree to leave her husband and two older children to follow him. Tristan realized that not many people, his own family included, would understand his actions, but Tristan just could not bear to turn his back on that little boy in Redcliffe whose face had haunted him these past months. His heart raced at the thought of spending the rest of his life with 'Dara and Dane. He had never previously allowed himself to hope that he and Athdara could be together, and the idea that it could actually happen seemed like a fantasy.

Tristan packed with much more care for this trip to Redcliffe than he had for any other in the past. He had to balance the things he wanted to leave for Sarah and the children against those that would be useful for him, 'Dara, and Dane on the road. He planned to take some items of value with him so that, should the need arise; he could sell them for coin. Finally, all was in readiness for the trip. As the arl's entourage slowly made its way out of South Reach, Tristan just couldn't wait to get to Redcliffe.

* * *

Athdara couldn't believe that she had squeaked by and Tristan hadn't demanded some sort of explanation from her before leaving Redcliffe last year. She had spent the time over the winter going over possible conversations and lining up responses in her head. By the time spring rolled around, she was almost glad. In a way, it would be good to finally get this confrontation with Tristan over. She knew at this point she was basically at Tristan's mercy. He could choose to leave things as they were and allow her to continue raising Dane or he could go to the arl, reveal their relationship, and take Dane from her. She didn't have any doubt that if her relationship with Tristan was made common knowledge that Durell would reject her and force her from their home. Durell wasn't good with confrontation, but his pride would not stand up to other people knowing she had been involved with another man.

When Durell had come home one night and informed them all that Arl Bryland's spring visit was to take place within the next few weeks, Athdara had felt a twinge of fear. This was vastly different from the anticipation that such an announcement usually heralded. She tried to calm her fears by telling herself that Tristan had as much to lose as she did if their affair became known. Surely his wife wouldn't put up with adultery any more than Durell would? Another concern she had was Dane's excitement. He had talked about Ser Maddoc for weeks after Tristan's last visit, and now Dane was telling them all about the stories he hoped his new friend would re-enact with him. Athdara almost felt sorry for Dane when Durell chastised him, saying that Arl Bryland's guard captain certainly had better things to do than run around with a young boy acting out stories. Dane had quieted after that, but Athdara knew that he hadn't given up his hopes.

The next few weeks seemed to drag for Athdara. Now that this was upon her, she just wanted it over. The day that the arl's party was expected finally dawned. Athdara spent most of the morning flitting from chore to chore unable to settle as she knew that any time now Redcliffe would be descended upon by the visitors.

* * *

It was late afternoon before she had the first indication that anything was amiss. Dane finally wore her down and received her permission to join his friends in watching for the arrival of the arl's party. He had been gone most of the afternoon, but Dane finally returned home shortly before five bells, as the family would then head to the servant's dining hall in the castle where they took all their meals.

"What's the matter, my Dane?" Athdara asked as the boy dejectedly entered their rooms and almost threw himself into a chair.

"They aren't here yet," replied Dane as he fiddled with his tunic with his fingers.

"Well, that sometimes happens, Dane. You never know what you will find on the road. They could have run into a large number of trees down that they had to clear, or parts of it could have been washed out and had to be detoured around. There are all kinds of circumstances they could have encountered while traveling. Don't worry. I'm sure your friend will be here soon."

"I hope so," replied Dane.

"Well, regardless, my dear. It's time for you to wash for dinner."

"Yes, Mother," said Dane as he rose and left the room.

Athdara felt a momentary flare of alarm, but she told herself she was being silly. She reminded herself of the first time she had met Tristan. The arl's party had actually arrived early that visit. A lost day on the road between South Reach and Redcliffe had to be expected sometimes. She and the children left their rooms shortly after that and made their way to the dining hall. Durell wasn't there when they first arrived, but he soon came rushing in. (Durell ruled the servant's dining hall like Arl Eamon did the one for the family and guests.) Once Durell had taken his seat, asked the Maker for his blessing, and then gave his permission for dinner to commence, he turned his attention to his food. Once they were done, Durell did inform Athdara that he would be home late that evening. He was going to stay at the castle on the off chance that Arl Bryland's party arrived that night. Athdara nodded and shepherded her three children back to their rooms. It was late before Durell returned, and Athdara had already retired. The next morning when she awoke, Durell was already up and gone, but she did vaguely remember him telling her when he came to bed that the visitors hadn't arrived yet

Dane once again wished to rush off with his friends as they found excuses to loiter around the castle courtyard watching for the expected arrivals. Athdara found she grew more and more nervous as the day progressed. She kept picturing Tristan showing up at the door demanding Dane. She knew the likelihood of that happening was slim, but her mind was only too willing to plague her with her worst fears.

Dinner time came and went with no arrivals. The entire castle seemed on edge as the worry in the form of tension rolled downhill from the arl and his family, the senior servants, even affecting the help in the kitchen and the maids cleaning the castle. Once again, Durell chose to oversee activities in the castle itself instead of spending the evening in the rooms with his family as normal. Athdara's nerves were pulled taut. Dane kept asking about Ser Maddoc and Athdara had no answers for him. She finally sent all three children to bed, but her mind was too active to allow her to find her rest. She sat up pretending to mend, but all she was doing was fretting. _Where was Tristan? What could have delayed the arl's party? _The evening progressed and when Athdara finally forced herself to bed, Durell still wasn't home yet. Athdara laid awake her mind restless and refusing to quiet, making sleep elusive.

It was the early morning hours before Athdara heard Durell return to their quarters. He came into their bedroom carrying a candle in his hand to light his way. Seeing she was awake, he sat the candle down on the small table at the bedside. He began to disrobe for bed.

"Any word?" Athdara asked.

"Finally, yes," Durell replied. "A messenger arrived a short while ago. The arl's party was ambushed on the road by a group of bandits, but luckily all the Brylands are fine. They should arrive sometime tomorrow."

Athdara sat up in alarm. She felt a sick feeling begin in the pit of her stomach. "Was anyone else hurt?" she asked as tried to keep her voice interested but not overly so. Her fear for Tristan was climbing into her chest.

Durell turned to find his nightshirt as he answered. "The arl lost three men, two of his guards and his guard commander, Ser Maddoc."

_NO! Not Tristan! Maker, please no! _The pain of Tristan's loss rolled through her and for those first seconds she forgot where she was, who was in the room with her, and about the secret she had kept from her husband for almost eight long years as the agony she felt at Durell's news showed on her face. "Tristan, my love..." she whispered brokenly.

"You BITCH," Durell thundered at her as he turned back in time to see her expression and hear her comment. He moved towards Athdara with his hand raised, leaving no doubt in Athdara's mind that he intended to strike her.

Athdara pushed herself back across the bed as the adrenaline starting pumping through her, moving too fast for Durell to hit her.

Durell started to come around the bed so Athdara dived back across it. "Durell, please!" she begged.

Durell reached out quickly, caught her arm, and started to draw her towards him. Athdara tried to escape Durell's grip, but he was too strong. Athdara did the only thing she could think to do. She stopped struggling and just looked at her husband as if daring him to continue.

Durell was almost panting from his chase of her and the anger that had seized him when he realized his wife had been unfaithful to him. He stood there looking down at her while she gazed up at him with no fear showing on her face. Slowly his raised arm lowered as he began to get his breathing and emotions under control.

Athdara stayed quiet, just watching Durell, waiting to see what he would do while inside she felt as if she was falling apart.

Durell continued staring back at her before finally asking, "How long, Athdara? How long have you been rutting with Maddoc?"

Athdara was quiet for a few minutes trying to decide if she should deny everything or if it was better for her to acknowledge what had gone on between her and Tristan. Finally, she replied, "For a little while."

As Durell's suspicions were confirmed his eyes burned down at her, "You whore. Get out! Get OUT!" Durell's voice rose with each statement.

Athdara wanted to flinch at his demands, but she knew she didn't dare. She had to protect her children, especially Dane. She rose from the bed raising her head to challenge him, "Are you sure you really want me to go? If I do everyone in Redcliffe will know what a fool your wife made of you. I'm sure the arl will be very impressed."

Durell's face lost its anger as uncertainty replaced it.

Athdara pushed her point home. "What about Rowena? Do you want her to be known as the daughter of a whore? She will lose any chance at a decent life. Is that what you want for her?" she asked and then waited for Durell's response. Durell stared at her for long moments, but when his shoulders sagged, Athdara knew she had made it through the worst of the confrontation with him.

Trying to regain the upper hand, he asked, "Was he the only one you've been with?"

"Yes," was Athdara's simple answer.

"How can I believe anything you say?"

"I've never lied to you, Durell," replied Athdara coolly.

Durell looked at her as if he was trying to gauge her response. Athdara continued to look him straight in the eyes, knowing to show weakness would be the worst thing she could do right now. "What about in the future?" he asked. "Is this behavior you intend to continue?"

"No, there was only Tristan. No other man can take his place," Athdara answered. Her implication that not even Durell could replace Tristan was unspoken between them.

Durell roughly pulled on his nightshirt and grabbed up a handful of clothes and the candle he had entered with. "I'll sleep in my study tonight," he growled at her before slamming the door on his way out.

Once Durell was gone, Athdara collapsed into the bed. Even with the worry over what the future would hold as far as Durell, all she could think of was Tristan. She couldn't believe he was actually dead. She had lived for his visits. How would she survive without the joy he brought into her life? How could a man who had been so full of life and laughter be dead? Athdara felt as if a part of her had died with Tristan. She laid awake all night with bouts of crying out her grief interspersed with periods of silence as her mind chased possibilities around in her head. But most of all, she dreaded tomorrow, knowing that she would have to tell Dane that Tristan was dead.

* * *

The next day passed in a blur for Athdara with only certain moments standing out. She had forced herself to control her crying so that the evidence of the rough night she had spent wouldn't show on her face the next day. She knew that Durell would be watching her over the following few days and expecting her to display only the emotions that were appropriate for her station as his wife. Athdara felt numb inside, but she could not allow herself the luxury of displaying her grief over Tristan's death in public.

The word of what had happened to the Brylands spread like wildfire through the village. By the time the arl and his family reached Redcliffe most of the inhabitants of the village had found an excuse to watch as the dejected party entered the small town. Horses and the coaches were left at the stables in the village except for those that bore the bodies of the men who had been lost. Those were led with dignity and honor up to the castle itself. The people grew quiet as the burdened beasts passed them on their climb up the hills, showing their respect for the men who had given their lives to defend their lord and his family. The villagers fell in behind and followed the visitors to the castle itself.

Athdara was in the courtyard with her children at her side standing with a number of the servants from the castle. Durell was in his place behind the arl, ready should the man require anything. She wanted to hold Dane's hand tightly in hers so she could feel some sort of connection to the man she loved, but she could feel Durell's eyes on her watching to gauge her reaction. The most important thing she had to do now was to protect Dane. Durell must not be provoked to the point of questioning his parentage. Athdara had been saying since shortly after Dane was born that he took after her family and looked much as her younger brother did when he was small. She just hoped that Durell would not put Dane and Tristan together in his mind. Dane had been upset about the loss of his friend when she had informed him that morning, but with the resiliency of the young, he was already falling under the spell of the excitement the arrival had generated in the younger children.

As the horses carrying their burden came into view followed by the Brylands themselves, a hush settled on the crowd in the courtyard. Arl Eamon followed closely by Durell descended the steps of the castle so he could greet Arl Bryland. Athdara couldn't hear what the men said, but she could tell that Arl Eamon was offering his condolences.

After a few minutes of consultation with Arl Bryland, Arl Eamon climbed the steps of the castle once again and held his hand up for silence. He said in a loud voice so that everyone in the courtyard could hear him, "My good people, today we will allow our guests to rest and recover from their recent experiences on the road. Tomorrow, we will burn pyres for those who have gone to the Maker and mourn their loss. I know most of you didn't know these men, but we will stand in for those loved ones that await them in South Reach. We will represent those families who even now have no knowledge of the loss that awaits them. Thank you all for your show of support to our visitors and friends." With that Arl Bryland and his family joined Arl Eamon, and they all made their way into the castle.

Athdara stayed watching almost in a daze as the horses were led away to the ice house where the bodies would be stored until the next day. The crowd was dispersing as the excitement for the day was over. It was only when her children demanded her attention that she forced her mind from Tristan to what was happening around her. Dane and Rendorn went running off with some of their friends to play while she and Rowena made their way around the castle to the servant's entrance to return to their rooms. Athdara spent the remainder of the day in their rooms unable to think about anything but her loss. She took the children to the servant's dining hall for supper as usual. Durell barely acknowledged her and Athdara held her silence, the numbness she felt inside serving her in good stead. That night, Athdara went to bed right after the children did. She lay awake as she listened for Durell to return. One of the few things he had told her at dinner was he was working late that night. Athdara was sure it was to avoid spending time with her alone in their rooms, which didn't bother her in the slightest. Athdara finally heard Durell come in shortly after midnight. As his steps stopped outside the door to the room they had always shared, Athdara felt a tightness in her stomach as the door was opened. Athdara pushed herself up to lean against the wall at the head of the bed as the light from the candle Durell carried lit up the small room. She looked at Durell's face which was cast in shadows. He didn't seem as angry as he had been the other night, but of course, he did not look pleased.

"I've decided for Rowena and the children's sake to let you stay," Durell said without any inflection in his voice.

Athdara nodded her head, but didn't say anything suspecting there was more coming.

"There are a couple of conditions and these are non-negotiable."

"What are they?" Athdara asked in a level voice.

"You will never engage in this sort of behavior again with anyone and no one finds out about what was going on with you and Maddoc," Durell answered. "Does anyone else know?"

"No," replied Athdara with a shake of her head. "I hadn't told anyone. I knew that if I told one person the secret would be spread."

"Good," said Durell. "I'll be staying in my study." A tormented expression crossed his face. "I have no desire to share a bed with you at the moment."

Athdara carefully controlled the look on her face so he wouldn't see the relief she felt at his statement. "Anything else?" she asked.

There was a long silence as Durell watched her. Athdara knew this was the time that Dane was in the most danger. If Durell didn't bring up the issue of his parentage now, then he never would. Durell preferred to sweep any unpleasant facts under the rug and not deal with them unless he was forced to. Finally Durell spoke, "No. Do we have an arrangement?"

"Yes, we do," Athdara replied with a nod.

"I expect you to continue to take care of the children and our rooms and to present a demeanor in public that nothing has changed with us."

"Of course," she said hardly believing that Durell would let her get by this easy. The gibe about Rowena must have hit home with him. Like Athdara with Dane, she knew Durell would do almost anything for his daughter.

"Fine," he said ducking his head and then turning to depart. "You know where I'll be."

Once she knew she would be alone the rest of the night, Athdara allowed herself to give into the grief and tension she had felt all day. She buried her head in her pillow and released the torrent of tears that had been threatening all day. Athdara wasn't sure how she was going to make it through the ceremonies that would take place the next day without breaking down. She just knew she had to stay in the boundaries Durell had set for their relationship or be summarily thrown out in the street with nowhere to go.

* * *

The next morning, Athdara dressed the children in their best, and she put on the dress she usually only wore to chantry services. It was Redcliffe tradition for the dead to be put in boats and have fire arrows set them ablaze on Lake Calenhad. Since these were South Reach men, however, they would have a traditional pyre, and the ashes would be gathered for the families and carried back when the arl returned to his lands. Athdara stood quietly, unemotional as Arl Bryland performed the ritual ceremony for the lighting of the pyres of the two regular guardsmen he had lost.

Athdara expected that as a ser and the leader of the guards that Tristan would have a little more honor than the two common guards. She was surprised, however, when the ceremony for him actually began. When the Revered Mother of the Redcliffe Chantry removed the cloth covering Tristan, Athdara's breath was almost taken away. He looked so life-like. She could almost believe he was sleeping and he would jump up, tell her it was a joke, wrap his arms around her, and then kiss her until she was breathless. Unfortunately for Athdara that didn't happen as his eyes remained closed and no breath caused his chest to rise and fall. Care had been taken to clean his wounds and with his appearance, and he was dressed differently than the other two men. They had both worn the uniform of Arl Bryland's guard, but Tristan was dressed as a nobleman in rich cloth and bright colors. Athdara was used to seeing him either in his armor or a loose tunic and breeches. How ironic it was that she had never seen him look more handsome than he did today. His bier was covered with flowers that had been cultivated through the early spring in the arl's greenhouse, and Athdara swallowed as tears threatened at the honor shown to Tristan. Athdara felt as though her heart was breaking, but she struggled to not let any of the emotions she was feeling show on her face.

Athdara's shocks for the day weren't over yet. Once the Revered Mother finished leading the Chant for the Dead, Arl Bryland walked up to Tristan's body. He had his back to the assembled crowd, but Athdara could see his shoulders shaking before he gathered himself, took a deep breath, and turned to address the onlookers. He began to speak, "Many of you didn't know this man, but I've known Tristan Maddoc since childhood. His father was one of my father's best friends, and I fostered with his family from the time I was twelve until I turned fifteen. Tristan and I were inseparable, always finding a way to get into trouble, but somehow Tristan would flash that smile of his and talk us free of any punishment." Arl Bryland paused as a wistful smile passed his features. "When my time came to return home, Tristan and I vowed that our friendship would remain strong. Tristan promised to come to me when he was done his training and he did, rapidly becoming indispensable to me.

Shortly after Tristan became the commander of my guards, his older brother died in a hunting accident. His father wanted him to return home and inherit the family title, but Tristan knew himself. He knew he would never be happy in such a position and that his people deserved a lord who would put his whole heart into serving them. Tristan was a man of action, never happier than when he was leading his men. Luckily, Tristan's younger brother, Ferris was willing to stay at home and assume the duties of heir. Tristan's refusal to come home and do what his father thought was his duty created a rift between them that remained unhealed to this day. I know Tristan deeply regretted this, but both of them were proud and refused to bend, thinking they would have the time to resolve their differences. It saddens me that will never happen now." Arl Bryland paused for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing on.

"When we were attacked on the road, Tristan was killed protecting the life of Habren, my daughter. He kept her safe at the cost of his own life. Tristan leaves behind a wife, son, and daughter."

Athdara's eyes went without thought to Dane. _No, Arl Bryland, he left behind TWO sons._

The arl turned to face Tristan's bier once again as he picked up the burning torch with which he would light the fire that would take Tristan's remains. "I promise that your wife and children will lack for nothing. Their needs will be provided for and I shall watch over them as you watched over my daughter, giving your life in the process." The arl moved over by Tristan's body and lowered the torch. "You will be missed, my friend, " he said so quietly he could hardly be heard. Arl Bryland raised his voice one last time, "Farewell, Tristan, son of Bann Ewan of Waking Sea!" The oil that had been soaked into the cloth Tristan's body laid on caught and the flames flared up.

At Arl Bryland's last words, Athdara caught her breath as the world tilted crazily around her. Tristan was the son of the bann of Waking Sea? Why had she never known? Had Tristan not trusted her enough to tell her?Her eyes once again went to Dane as he watched the fire take Tristan's body. _Oh my son, so much you have lost and you don't even realize it. _Athdara quickly lifted her eyes searching out Durell, but Durell's attention was held by Arl Eamon. Athdara watched as Durell made a little bow and discreetly left to carry out whatever order the arl had given him.

With Durell gone, Athdara was able to turn her attention once again to the bier. She even allowed a few tears to fall as the fire continued to consume Tristan's remains. No one could ever take his place in her heart. Athdara felt as though a part of her burned with Tristan on the pyre, but she could not allow herself to wallow in her grief as she wished. Tristan had left her a gift and a responsibility. He had left her a part of himself in Dane, and it was Athdara's charge now to make sure Dane was raised properly.

She still couldn't believe who Tristan's family had been. Athdara had assumed he was just one of the many minor nobles raised to his position because of his bravery and dedication. She'd had no idea he was from a major noble house, much less a prominent member of such. Tristan had certainly not acted like any of the nobility she had ever seen who visited Arl Eamon. Athdara hoped it was because he had felt free to be himself with her.

Her musings were interrupted when Rowena broke into her thoughts asking if they could leave yet. Athdara would have liked to stay to the end and possibly retrieve some of Tristan's ashes, but she knew that would be foolish. It would betray an interest better not questioned now that she and Durell had reached a tentative agreement. She therefore gathered her children and they headed back to their rooms in the castle. Dane was quiet and Athdara realized the pyre burning had affected him. This was the first one he had ever attended, and she hoped it hadn't been a mistake to allow him to go.

Once they arrived home, Athdara sent the children to change out of their good attire and back into their everyday wear. She also went to change. When she came back out to the main living area, Rendorn and Rowena were both there, but there was no sign of Dane. She sent the two of them off to play before heading towards the room the children shared. Athdara walked quietly down the hall. The door was partially open and Athdara stood silently in the doorway watching Dane. He was kneeling on the floor by the bed he shared with Rendorn. He had Tristan's amulet pulled off and lying on top of the straw mattress. His head was bowed and Athdara could hear him mumbling to himself, but she couldn't understand what he was saying.

As Athdara watched Dane, she looked at him with a new eye. He was now more than just the child she loved most in the world. Dane was descended from a noble line and _deserved_ more than growing up to be just another common servant here in Redcliffe. As Athdara stood there, a plan formed in her mind. Tristan was gone. She could not bring him back, but she could mold his son into a man to be proud of, a man Tristan's family would be happy to acknowledge if the truth of Dane's parentage came to light. It wouldn't be easy, but if she was willing to make the sacrifices it would take, it could be done.

"My Dane," she said quietly.

Dane turned to her. She saw the tears falling from his eyes and the dejection in his small body. Her initial reaction was to want to sweep him into her arms and try and take away the hurt he was feeling, and that is what she would have done before today.

"Why the tears, my boy?" she asked, not moving from the door.

Dane brought a hand up to wipe away the aforementioned tears. "It's my fault he's dead," he said softly. "Ser Maddoc's amulet was supposed to protect him, but it couldn't because I was wearing it instead."

Athdara forced herself to cross her arms and lean against the doorframe when all she wanted to do was hug him tight. "Do not be silly. Whether Ser Maddoc had the amulet or not, it wouldn't have changed anything. When the Maker calls for you to join him, you go, protective amulets or not. It wasn't your fault."

"Really?" asked Dane, obviously wanting to believe the words his mother said.

"Really," said Athdara decisively. "Now, put your amulet on and go find Rendorn and Rowena."

Athdara watched as Dane picked up the chain and brought it over his head. He picked up the amulet and dropped it inside his tunic. He gave his mother a halfhearted smile as he brushed past her and headed out to find his siblings.

Athdara didn't move for several minutes as she stared blankly ahead of her and her mind raced as she considered possibilities. Being Durell's wife opened up doors she never would have gotten past without his status in the castle. She could read more than most women in her position because Durell had taught her when they first married. All the children had basic reading lessons from Durell, but she could ensure that Dane was well read and educated by getting permission to borrow books from the arl's library. The arl was betrothed and soon to be married. Athdara would ingratiate herself to the soon-to-be arlessa. This would give Athdara an inside look at the manners and characteristics expected of a nobleman, and she could then teach Dane.

Even her relationship with Dane itself would have to change. Athdara had a tendency to baby him, but no more. Nobles were expected to be leaders of men that others looked up to, and Dane would have to learn young to stand on his own two feet. Yes, whatever it took; whatever the cost, she would pay it. She swore to herself that someday her son would rise to the station in life he had been born to.

* * *

_AN: And there you have, just why Dane's mother became the way she was. I picture her obsession growing worse year after year as she allowed nothing else in her life to ease the pain of Tristan's loss._

_When I was trying to decide what family I wanted Tristan to come from, I saw a picture of Bann Alfstanna and I thought she and Perth had hair almost the same color. Therefore, in this universe, she and Dane are first cousins. Tristan and Ferris were brothers, and Ferris is the father of Alfstanna and Irminric. I couldn't find a last name for them so I figured Maddoc would work. _

_And yes, ladyamesindy, I do hope to write the story of Dane finding out about his true father… someday, maybe in that sequel you keep asking for. Thank you, my friend, for your help once again. _


End file.
